


Little Mutant Mine

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Jealous sex, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's yours, and you know he would never leave you, but you're still.. Anxious. Not jealous, the Grand Highblood does not get jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Mutant Mine

You, in all your sweeps ruling the courts under Her Imperious Condescension, have never considered yourself to be a jealous troll. Not really. Granted, you have had some problems with your kismesis garnering lust-filled looks from trolls of all colors of the spectrum, but you’ve gotten over it in time. He wouldn’t leave you, he hates you too much.

But something about the little mutant you’ve taken into your care spurs an animal-like anger inside you, even  _thinking_ that someone may touch him. It makes you angry that you get angry, but as of yet, you haven’t found a solution that didn’t involve clearing your entire evening well into the day and spending it in your private quarters, reminding him where his flushed affections lie.

He hadn’t done anything, to your best knowledge, but been his usual self, full of fire and anger and an unnatural warmth that made trolls seem to gather about him. He, of course, never minds it, just spouting the same blasphemous treason that got him so close to execution before you got him.

It wasn’t easy, that.

But now that you have him, you intend to keep him, forever. So, after shooing everyone away from your precious little mutantblood, you pull him into a hug. He purrs sweetly in his throat, looking up at you and smiling. You note that he hasn’t shaved. You also note that he’s quite handsome either way. He leans in and kisses you on the lips, smiling. You pet his hair and trill, earning a warm kiss under your jaw as he settles into your lap.

"Why all the affection, Highblood? Not that I mind, but I’m wondering." He asks, pulling your arms around himself and tracing your knuckles.

You hum and press a kiss to his hair, your other hand slipping between his legs. “You attract so much attention, little mate mine, I feel reminding you of our bond couldn’t hurt.”

He flushes and leans against you, and you still completely. Obviously, if he were to say ‘no’ or anything that lead you to believe he wasn’t okay with it, you would stop and leave him be. You aren’t an animal.

Then, he leans his head back and flicks his tongue over your chin. “Is that so? How do you intend to do that?”

You croon something wordless at him and roll your hips into his ass, your fingers slipping further up the inside of his thigh. He slides his legs further apart, giggling and petting your face. He sometimes acts almost pale towards you, and it’s completely motherfucking disgusting, as you  _have_ a moirail, but you still like it.

You and he are closer than you’ve been with another troll before. Even your palemate isn’t given the permission you gave him, the allowance to see you without any paint. He’s never broken your trust, and you can’t help but adore him even more with each risk you take for him.

"Ah, Highblood, a little more.." He mumbles, his voice going breathy and soft against your neck. "W-wait, hold on."

You stay mostly still as he shifts in your lap to face you, kissing you again and reaching up to scratch around your horns. You rumble in your chest and stroke his back, your other hand slipping down to cup his ass, then further to rub at his nook.

He moans sweetly into your mouth, rolling his hips and sucking on your bottom lip. You press just slightly at his nook through his pants, already wet from his bulge and nook both dripping. Your own bulge slipping a little more from it’s sheathe with each hot breath of noise he makes.

When he pulls away to drag his shirt off, you take a few seconds to appreciate his flush. Then, he flicks you on the nose and you startle for a moment.

"Motherfucker, what was that for?"

He smiles and kisses the tip of your nose gently. “Staring. Aren’t you gonna undress too?” His hands trace over your face, careful, like you’ve still got your paint on, or like he’s going to hurt you. It’s endearing how he acts like that.

"And if I want to watch you instead, Signless one?" You purr, bending down nearly double to drag your tongue up his sternum.

He squirms, mewling. “I w-want to see you, though, ugh stop licking me it’s gross.”

You laugh, petting his back and licking up his throat, earning a sweet moan. “Motherfucker never had problems before.”

He huffs and pulls you into a kiss, blushing furiously. You grin and work your clothing off without disturbing him much, and he rolls his still-clothed bulge against your free one, grunting.

"I love you." He whispers, lips only a centimeter away from yours and eyes half-lidded. "I love you, Kurloz."

Normally, your title being replaced with your name would send you into a rage. But there isn’t anything normal about your mutant matesprit, is there?

"You, too." You manage, stroking your thumb over his hip.

His mouth twitches up at the corners and he doesn’t push it, his hands snaking down your chest and over your shoulders. You tilt his chin up and kiss under it, lifting him from your lap to peel his pants down, earning a soft hum in his throat. You purr and pull him closer, until your bulge is nudging at the opening of his nook.

It slips in just a bit and you’re reminded of how hot his blood is, and how small he really is. He moans and rolls his hips a little, lifting himself up with both hands on your shoulders. Carefully, he starts lowering himself on your bulge, chirping little mewls and twitching his hips forward and down in jerks.

You pet his back and nibble his collarbone, careful not to break the skin, no matter how much you would love to have his perfect, cherry red for your walls, your murals. No matter how much the ever-present voices in the back of your pan telling you to tear him to pieces and watch the crimson drip from your claws.

No, you would never hurt him. He’s a miraculous motherfucker, and he’s yours. All yours.

By the time he has to stop and wait, he’s panting and shivering a little, his nook fluttering around you. Your fingers slide into his hair and scratch at his scalp, massaging around his horns and making him become a purring, boneless mess against your chest.

"Alright, redbrother?" You murmur, forcing yourself to stay still when you’d like nothing more than to slam into him.

He nods and moves a little, moaning. “Yeah, just… Enjoying it,”

You actually flush a little at that, hiding your face in his neck and staying still as he lowers himself completely. After a few more moments of you nearly biting through your bottom lip, he lifts himself, then drops back onto your bulge with a keen.

You move with him, then, rocking your hips up for each time he rocks his down. He’s so vocal, you just breathe in his scent and listen to his moans and twist your bulge in the nearly too-tight heat of his nook. You were never more glad for the nature of bulges than when you first consummated your matespritship with him, if your bulge couldn’t compress and bend, you’re sure you would tear your beauty in half.

He leans away from you suddenly, his hands gripping your thighs and his head stretched back with his mouth hanging open. You wish you could watch the stretch of his muscles forever, just watch him move in those fluid motions, besides the sex. His bulge is spreading reddish prematerial on his abdomen and his nook is dribbling against your legs. The damp sex sounds you’d expect are almost completely drowned out by his warm voice, calling out your title or gasping your name, and you notice his thighs trembling on either side of you.

"Fuck, fuck, Highblood, I’m gonna come, oh shit, yes yes yesyesyes!" Your matesprit pants, moving faster as cherry material pours from his bulge and fills his nook around your bulge.

You pepper his face with kisses and move to pull out of him and let him relax, but he whines and starts moving again, chittering from over-stimulation.

You hiss at the flutter around your bulge, rubbing his hips with your thumbs. “Redbrother, you can stop.”

He huffs and kisses you. “I don’t want to. It feels good, fuck.” He drapes himself over you again, moving with his face against your throat.

Well, if he enjoys it, you won’t stop him. It isn’t as if you don’t feel it, or the coil in your gut getting tighter with each twitch of his hips on you, and you’d be lying if the thought of filling him with a mixture of your materials didn’t ignite something feral and selfish inside you.

It takes maybe two minutes, and you’re just holding him over you while you slam up into him, his own hand on his bulge as he shivers and chirps tiny warnings. Then, you pull him down on you and come, your bulge spilling cold into his heat and your nook adding to the pool of material under you on your seat.

He comes and the sound is soft and sweet and musical, almost. After another second, he whines and his bulge shudders like he’s coming again, but nothing comes out. You assume his seedflap absorbed the material in his nook. You, personally, haven’t felt it, but you guess an intense feeling like that could make someone orgasm.

He tucks himself into your arms and purrs lazily, not even minding when you stand and carry him to the bath, just moving languidly when you you ask him while washing him.

You weren’t  _actually_ worried he’d leave. At least, you tell him that when he teases you.

**Author's Note:**

> Vantii are always loud in bed, this is a fact I am a scientist  
> if you liked this, consider supporting me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


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